Mystery Skulls - The Kink
by LovelyKouga
Summary: Arthur discovers a new kink, and unfortunately, Lewis cannot escape from it even when he is a ghost! Is it what he hates the most, or his he a bit more open to it? LewThur, LewisxArthur, contains slight bondage, mutual masturbation, not established relationship
1. Chapter 1

It…it looked, in all honesty, like the illegitimate offspring of a skeleton and a ghost - who might have been a male model or hairdresser at some point in its life, judging by that outrageous, flaming pink pompadour. But Arthur wasn't dwelling on the details at the moment, his brain was far too frazzled from sheer terror as he stared into the bottomless pits of the skull's eye sockets belonging to the hulking figure looming over him. Zonks, why did he ever get into the mystery-hunting business again?! It wasn't his fault that his two best friends had some weird, borderline creepy LOVE for anything supernatural, especially Vivi. She was the ringleader really, and where Arthur would almost jump out of his skin if a floorboard so much as creaked, she would get a familiar excited sparkle in her eyes and jump at the chance to investigate. Usually, she would drag her on-again off-again sorta-boyfriend Lewis with her, but…

"Lewis…" Arthur sobbed, barely audible as the specter closed in, cornering him with his broad shoulders to cut off any escape route. It was simple from there, closing his eyes and backing up against the stone wall of the mansion. It felt grounding somehow, comfortable even, like he had deserved this for a long time and it was finally happening.

Except something happened, something mortifying and that kinda awkward that only happens maybe once or twice in your life and every time you think about it while trying to sleep you just wanna hide in a hole and never come out – you know, that kind. It all started when the skeleton floated so close that Arthur's fight-or-flight reflex must have short-circuited from sheer panic, and he actually attempted to push the ghost away. His comparatively small hands met a very solid chest clothed in an expensive-looking black suit, making the mistake of cupping what appeared to be a beating heart made out of gold. A loud 'chink' sound echoed through the hallway, indicating it was his metal arm that had collided with the strange heart. It stuttered in his hand, and the ghost froze, then shuddered, letting out a strange sort of groan before grabbing both of Arthur's hands, raising them above his head and slamming his whole body against the stone wall.

"You will pay for that…"  
_Deep_. So impossibly, _lusciously_ deep.

Arthur was pinned, and…oh shit. He was _pinned_. This couldn't be happening now, but it was…that one violent, dominating gesture had sparked something inside him that turned into a sudden flare. The ghost was obviously a little taken aback by the look in his prey's eyes, but he decided to pay it no mind for now – his revenge was so close and he wanted to enjoy every delectable moment. He invaded the other man's space in typical villain form, grinning devilishly with his eyes and pressing his large bulk against him, meaning to appear intimidating. It was quite a sight – a powerful, angry specter immobilizing his victim physically, ensuring no further escape was possible while Arthur struggled helplessly in his iron-like grip.  
At least that's what it would have looked like to a spectator.  
Arthur, however…clearly didn't see it like that, though. His breathing was labored, sure, that was to be expected when you were so – petrified? Is that was this was? No, it couldn't be, because as he strained against his bonds, he arched his back so that his weight was supported by his shoulders on the wall behind him, and he fucking _moaned_ when his lower body made contact with the specter's. To say the ghost-man was surprised was laughable, it hardly came close to describing the comically confused expression that now oozed from his skull-like face. Dumbfounded, he couldn't will his body to move away as the living man practically molested his upper thigh, straining and grinding almost involuntarily. Arthur was mortified – stupid body, the hell is wrong with you?! You can't seriously be turned on being seconds from death. But there was the evidence, right there in the front of his trousers, pressed against the ghost's leg as he moved desperately against him. His hands hurt, as the ghost's grip got even tighter in an attempt to make him stop, but that one simple movement made his eyes squeeze shut and his mouth fall open in a small gasp.

This brought back memories - for both of them. The ghost's name was Lewis, and he was once a valued member of the Mystery Skulls (a paranormal investigative gang), before this man currently pleasuring himself on his leg killed him by pushing him off a cliff into various pointy things. But that wasn't the memory he had in mind at the moment.

* * *

It had been a classic case, textbook really. The gang had been contacted to investigate a supposedly zombie-infested fairground, and in good form the gang had decided to split up to cover more ground. While Lewis would usually go with his sorta-gf Vivi, it had been annoying him lately that Arthur and Mystery would rather sneak off to find free food than do any actual work, so he made the leadership decision that Vivi should go with her dog Mystery, while Arthur would come with him. Arthur actually seemed glad at the prospect – a muscular 6ft friend was WAY better protection than a dog after all.  
They parted ways as they had so many times. It was a typical scene – two teenagers fumbling around in the dark of a foggy, abandoned county faire with only a flashlight for guidance. They were sitting ducks, and before long, the zombies (who turned out to be just one zombie, who turned out to be Old Man Jenkins in disguise after the fact) caught them unawares and dragged the pair into the animal training tent. Lewis was very strong, but the crafty old man had anticipated his and shot him full of some kind of muscle relaxant. After seeing his bodyguard friend fall so easily, Arthur had neither the strength nor the will to run or fight, and the 'zombie' figured he wasn't worth the extra drug to incapacitate him. He chuckled low in his throat and bashed him over the head instead, dazing him, before he fetched a length of rope and tied them securely together, back-to-back. Lewis could do nothing to stop this, he had never felt so helpless in his entire life. His body didn't feel right, it felt like his limbs weighed next to nothing and like he was floating, he might even drift away if he wasn't tied to his friend. For good measure, the zombie hurriedly blindfolded and gagged Arthur because jesus Christ he would NOT stop whimpering. Was the drug that powerful that Lewis wasn't a concern? Bastard.

The 'zombie' let out an exaggerated zombie-like gurgle, pleased with his zombie-ish work, and shuffled away in a very zombie-like fashion, obviously intending to find the others before returning to deal with the boys. Lewis smiled to himself and tapped the back of his head onto Arthur's.  
"Hey, hey buddy. Dija…haha, woah." His head spun and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. "Didja see the price tag swinging from his rubber mask? Ohhhhmigod. That is the most bullshit costume yet, haha, right Art?"  
He prodded the blond with his elbow, trying to elicit a response, but all he got in return was labored breathing, muffled somewhat through the thin cloth of the gag.  
"Scared stiff?" He asked, innocently.

If only he'd chosen those words more carefully.

He didn't notice at first, because he was attempting to loosen his bonds, but Arthur's back was getting suspiciously sweaty for the middle of Spring. He was breathing even more irregularly and even appeared to be sort of rocking back-and-forth, as though traumatized. The rhythmic shaking made Lewis turn his head in concern, but his reassuring words were caught in his throat when he saw a sizable tent in the front of Arthur's pants out of the corner of his eye. His face was beet-red, brow furrowed in confusion and sweat beaded at his temples as he attempted to relieve some of the building pressure by practically rutting against the thick rope at his hips. The chords of the rope even skated across his nipples and he groaned in ecstasy. Lewis couldn't believe it, I mean he knew people were into some pretty kinky stuff and all, heck he had a few less-than-manly ones himself, but…This was Art. Cowardly, moody, loyal Art, and Lewis had never really thought about his friend in this kind of situation before. As the rocking became a bit more erratic, Lewis couldn't help but feel a little…strange, too. He tried to ignore the warm pooling feeling in his stomach, really, he did. Out of respect for Art, for Vivi, and for his Momma, goddamn did he try. The force of the rocking was pulsing through his whole body, and he blamed the drugs for his own reaction to the breathy little pants that were now coming from the other man. Yuuup, definitely the drug. No other explanation would allow him to feel less guilty as he held his breath, attempting to hold in the ragged gasp threatening to bubble forth, but all that did was make his head spin. Maybe he would make himself faint on purpose, or fake it at least so that Art wouldn't have to feel embarrassed? But, Art had no such reservations; he was much too lost in his obviously newly-awakened kink for restraints. He threw his head back, resting it on the beefy shoulder of his friend as he managed to get half of his hand free and grasped forcefully at the back of Lewis' shirt. His head lolled to the side, gradually, and his breath was wet and loud in the other man's ear. Why the fuck was he so vocal, that gag did absolutely nothing to muffle his sounds as he had managed to work it inside his mouth. Don't quit your day-job, zombie! Without warning, he let out a long, drawn-out, shaky moan as he pressed the entire length of his back against the larger mans'. Lewis choked out a sob in reply; he couldn't see Art's expression because of the blindfold, but he could feel and smell the blonde hair; it tickled his face and smelled faintly of hairspray and lemon. His senses overstimulated, he sagged forward in defeat, gyrating his hips as best he could as the fingers of his friend gradually hiked up the back of his shirt to reveal some skin at the small of his toned back. This was so fucked up.

The mortification would come later when the two chose not to explain why there were wet patches in the front of their pants when they were rescued by an indifferent dog named Mystery, who chose to bite through the rope without comment. The rope burns lasted for days, but Lewis figured it was the drug still in his system that made his loins throb every time he saw a flash of red on his very-platonic friends pale wrists. After that, Art took up the habit of wearing a pair of wristbands, and the matter was dropped.

* * *

"Lewis I'm so sorry…I was…possessed by a jealousy spirit…it used my arm and - I would never, could never…" His voice cracked with emotion as he turned his head slightly to the side, wanting a clean blow, a quick end, and the memory of his best friend fresh in his mind when the ghost decided to deliver the final blow. It never came, however, and the blond opened one eye a crack to see his deliverer appearing to hesitate. His once soulless eye sockets now had mysterious glowing pupils - a shocking purple-pink – and when Arthur turned to fully face him he saw something familiar. He saw…humanity. The purple orbs darted over his body and drifted slowly over the metal of the arm illuminated by the candles lining the hall, and when they came to rest back on a quizzical face, he saw no trace of maliciousness. He floated there for a moment, before relaxing its shoulders and backing off a little. If Arthur felt hope it was short lived, because with a snap of Mr. Specter's fingers five little purple ghosts appeared behind the frightened man and grabbed hold of him. With a yelp, he was pulled backwards and he _phased through the fucking wall_. His whole body shook with terror as he felt the stones brushing against his insides, the gravel passing through without pain, but it was a weird feeling…especially while hard. Now Arthur would never admit the next part, he would swear to the grave that the little bastards hit him over the head to make him unconscious, but really…

He fainted like a little pussy.  
…And awoke the next day chained up in shackles, in what appeared to be a dungeon, with a very flustered-looking ghost standing over him.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur yelped and attempted to run, but the chains became taught and yanked his wrists back as though of their own accord. He wouldn't put it past this madhouse to have possessed chains or something; after all, only earlier today he had seen paintings and suits of armor move by themselves! Vivi and Mystery were probably still out there, looking for him, and Arthur sighed with the realisation that he might never see his gang again.  
The thought was short-lived; he saw stars as he smacked the back of his head against the hard stone wall of the dungeon, the pain amplified by the previous knock to the head those pesky ghosts had given him. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was a pair of glowing purple eyes staring him down as he phased backwards through a wall. Some other stuff had happened involving a newly-awakened fetish but uh, Arthur wasn't in such a hurry to dwell on the embarrassing circumstances. And…oh, shit. Those eyes? There they were, right in front of him!

The blond man could do nothing but shake like a pitiful Chihuahua, the violent tremors making the chains clink behind his ears as the hulking form of the skeleton-ghost hovered above him. Silhouetted by a candle chandelier and the soft pink glow from its fiery hair, it looked formidable indeed. Arthur could make out nothing except the hair and eyes, and the expression on the skeletal face was unreadable, but then a pulse of gold caught his eye. His eyes wandered South towards the source and his breath caught in his throat – he recognised that. It was a heart-shaped locket, identical to the one Lewis used to wear, except…it was beating.

Wait. Wait just a ghost-busting MINUTE.

Arthur felt the cogs in his head beginning to turn. The hair. The heart. The obvious vendetta. The way the ghost had reacted to the name before.

Was this bag of bones…?

"Lewis…?" He ventured, his timid voice making him cringe. He saw the large shoulders of the spectre shudder, as though in disgust, and the glowing pink atop his head drew brighter as it raged into an inferno. Arthur wished he could raise his hand to shield his eyes from the brightness, but all he could do was squint.

"You do not get to call me that anymore." It said, in a voice dripping with malice. The hurt was written all over its face, and Arthur couldn't hold back the tears. They slid freely down his cheeks, and the skeleton…Lewis, looked a little taken aback.  
"Tears…will not save you." He chided, assuming them tears of cowardice. He loomed over the much smaller man, balling his fists.

"I don't want to be saved." Arthur replied, softly. "I want you to do whatever you want to me, whatever will make you feel better." He blinked through his tears, wanting to convey how sorry he really was. He deserved no mercy, he knew that, and for once in his life his thoughts were not for his own safety, but for his long-lost friend whom he had betrayed.

"There is no way for me to take back what I did to you, Lewlew. I only want you to know that I didn't mean to do it, that I would never have done that were I not possessed…I…" he choked back a sob, remembering the look on Lewis' face as he had laid there, skewered on the rocks. If it had been that traumatic for him, it must have been a fraction of the pain Lewis had felt, for the last thing Lewis had seen was the face of his best friend as he had pushed him to his death. But, he also remembered a tinge of green creeping onto Arthur's arm, and wasn't one of his eyes glowing, too…? Lewis hesitated now, as his memory became clearer. That day was something he had skewered into nothing but revenge-fuel, but now he could put the pieces together for himself. Aruthur had ALWAYS been a ghost-magnet, maybe due to the fact he was the most frightened of them, and there had been many a time he had been possessed to walk into a trap or used as a puppet so that a ghost could talk to the rest of the gang. But this was the first time a ghost had actively had the power to use a part of his body against his will. Lewis grabbed Arthur's left arm, the arm that had pushed him to his doom, and sure enough it was made of metal. He used his other hand to push up the sleeve of the Tshirt, and what he saw made his (metaphorical) skin crawl. It was faint, but…there was definitely a green glow surrounding the fleshy shoulder, scarred by teeth and malice. He made an angry sound that echoed menacingly through the dungeon, bouncing off the walls and making the smaller man quake in his grasp. Lewis was frustrated; not because his torment of his friend had been for naught, but because there was a spirit out there that had caused such irreparable damage to his friends…and of course, himself. He couldn't fathom it – sure, they had made many an enemy in their journeys together, but why would someone do this to them?

Arthur gazed up into the stark white face of his friend, and almost felt relieved as the raging pink flames calmed and shrunk back to their normal state. Well, as normal as a flaming pink hairdo can be. Lewis sighed heavily, thoughtfully stroking in small circles with his thumb the area where metal and flesh met. Arthur wisely said nothing as he felt his face heat up at the intimate touch, which was just as well. Lewis seemed not to be in the talking sort of mood. Instead, he turned his head and looked, _really_ looked, at his friend for the first time in so long. Lewis reached out a bony finger and swiped away a tear before he poked a slightly gaunt cheek - the blonde looked thinner than he remembered – well, Lewis had always been the cook of the group, so he suspected his friends might have been relying on takeaway trash for a while now. Arthur tried to not move a muscle as the finger traced dark circles under wide eyes – hmm, tired, too, but otherwise he was the same (apart from the missing limb). He still had that ridiculous goatee, the smell of motor oil and lemon, and puppy-dog eyes that seemed to beg 'please don't kill me' 90% of the time. Although right now they seemed to be more like 'why are you touching me?'.

Lewis stopped his ministrations for the moment, attempting to hide his awkwardness by folding his beefy arms in front of him and averting his eyes from the watery brown ones.

"Uh…Arthur." He started, voice too deep to seem calming or reassuring. The other man's mouth twitched. "Maybe you are telling the truth. But I am not certain yet."  
Arthur's head sagged in defeat. He knew it. "You don't trust me."  
Lewis quirked a brow. "Do you blame me? Your face was the last thing I saw, your hand the last thing I felt, and your laughter the last thing I heard." His hand brushed his own chest, sadly, and the golden heart stuttered at the memory under his fingertips, and Arthur flinched.

"I…was laughing?"

Lewis glared. "You were."  
"Oh my god…" Arthur cursed. "That's…"  
"SUUUUCH a dick move." Lewis offered, popping a hip and making a comical 'tsk' sound.

Arthur burst out laughing; despite himself and despite the touchy subject. He couldn't help it, the unexpected humor had caught him off guard. It was like his friend was back, like it was old times, and he smiled warmly before trying desperately to silence himself. He felt his stomach drop to his knees, and stared with furrowed brows at the unreadable expression on the skeletal face, terrified he had offended Lewis and undone all the progress they had just made.  
Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But Lewis turned his back on him and floated silently towards the dungeon door, and it opened for him without a touch. He descended and stood there at the doorway for a few moments, and Arthur swore it was all over now. But the ghostly man turned his head to look back at the smaller one, still shackled to the wall, and the chains glowed a bright purple before unclasping themselves from his wrists. Arthur landed without grace on legs too wobbly to hold his weight, and he had to hold onto the chains for support. Lewis chuckled before turning on his heel to exit the dungeon. As the heavy wooden door closed, he had a few parting words.

"I like that laugh much better."


	3. Chapter 3

How long had it been now? Two days, maybe. Arthur couldn't be sure; the candles in the chandelier had long since burned down into a large ball of wax, and the only light in the whole dungeon emitted from a dish with a strange purple fire that never seemed to go out. Lucky for him, the plumbing still worked, and he had been able to get himself several cups of water and do his daily business, but…

He was hungry.

His thoughts drifted to Lewis, as they seemed to a lot these past few days. He'd seemed a lot less vengeful and killy the last time they met, but now he wasn't so sure. Had that all been a ruse, some false hope? Was he going to be left for dead to languish alone and starving in the dark? It was proving hard to keep up the faith in his friend, though he gently reminded himself he deserved no such pleasantries. If Lewis wanted him to die like this, then he would. He would do anything for him. Maybe he would die and become a ghost too; then they could hang out doing ghostly things and pranking people, his debt repaid and Lewis' revenge satisfied.

Tired of worrying, and too hungry to argue with himself, Arthur flopped down on his back on the too-hard bed, and propped his hands behind his head as a makeshift pillow. He was just beginning to doze off when he heard the door creak open, and he knew it was Lewis because there were no footsteps before the door closed again. He feigned sleep for a few minutes, and was confused when Lewis didn't wake him or make any sound at all. He could _feel_ him floating right next to the bed, there seemed to be a warmth that surrounded him and a barely audible beating of his heart, and the pink glow of his absurd hair permeated Arthur's closed eyelids. Was he…was he seriously watching him sleep? What a creeper, but maybe…maybe, he could mess with him a bit.

Arthur sighed deeply, rolling over in his 'sleep' and muttering something barely audible. Lewis was intrigued; back in the living days, Arthur often talked in his sleep, he knew that much from their many nights having to be spent in the back of the Mystery Van. Usually it was screaming or night terrors, and many a time Arthur would get a swift kick in the back for waking everyone up. But these sounded like full sentences! Lewis bent at the waist and leaned in a little closer, trying to make out the words. They were too quiet…so he moved even closer, his face inclined and very close to Arthur's when the blonde man's body spasmed a bit, and he let out a smutty moan right in his ear. Lewis' bony face flushed and he attempted to quickly move back a bit, but Arthur's surprisingly strong metal hand had shot out and grasped at the sleeve of his tux. Panicking now, eye sockets wide, he tugged desperately at the vice-like grip while the man on the bed writhed and panted like a bitch in heat. Curse his infernal metal arm!

"Lewis…"  
The ghost-man froze at that, and he couldn't have moved if he'd tried.

"…You…you're such a creeper, watching me sleep." Arthur's eyes finally opened, and much to his delight, he saw that good 'ol LewLew was just as flustered about stuff like this in death as he had been in life. How the heck someone as good-looking as him would be that shy he had no idea, but messing with him and playing gay chicken was always worth it. Mercifully, he let go with a good-natured chuckle and sat up on the bed, watching with a sparkle in his eye as his friend attempted to compose himself. It involved much stuttering but almost no eye contact. Aww, bless!

Finally he seemed to find his footing, and he drew himself up to his full height, tugging regally at the hem of his jacket to straighten it. Arthur smirked a the dirty look he received.

"You certainly seem less fearful of me, you little shit." Lewis growled, but there was a touch of fondness in it. They both laughed at that, and Arthur sat cross-legged on the bed, patting the spot next to him as an invitation for Lewis to join him. He did, but he hovered about a foot in the air and crossed his arms and legs, still a little guarded.

"So you finally decided to come visit?" Arthur ventured, copying the grumpy way Lewis had crossed his arms.

"Yes, well. You are my prisoner, but…"  
"But?"

"I didn't expect to find you here, to be honest." Lewis seemed genuine, but Arthur raised a brow, a bit sceptical.  
"Uh, hello? There still a brain in there?" He emphasised his point by gently tapping his knuckles on the side of Lewis' skull. Lewis huffed and shifted his weight a bit, but didn't comment. Arthur laughed and shook his head.  
"You kinda locked me in your DUNGEON."

"I never locked it." Lewis said, voice full of wonder. "I left it open, and you…you never even _tried_ to escape, did you?"  
Arthur dropped his gaze, fidgeting with his hands in his lap. "Well, no. I figured this is where you wanted me, and this is only a fraction of what I deserve for what I did to you. I would have stayed here 'til I died."  
He never the reason for his imprisonment was meant to be a test of his guilt, and therefore, his loyalty. It just seemed right to wait for Lewis to come for him, somehow.  
The ghost literally _glowed_ with pride, and his chest swelled with emotion at the other's words. The golden heart beat stronger and faster than it ever had since his death. Arthur saw the pink and gold glowing in his peripheral vision, and chanced a peek up at him – that huge nerd! Arthur ginned sheepishly and punched him playfully on the arm, and Lewis was just contemplating reaching out and drawing the other man into a huge bear-hug - but the moment was spoiled when an impossibly loud gurgling sound emanated from Arthur's stomach. His face burned scarlet and he clutched at it with his metal arm, embarrassed beyond belief. Well, not as embarrassed as he had been when he'd been grinding his erection on his friend's leg the other day, but you know. One day at a time.

Silence filled the room for an uncomfortable amount of time, before pink flames roared to life from Lewis' shoulders and head. Arthur jumped back, patting furiously at the sleeve of his shirt that had caught fire. He was confused and a bit scared, but it was all for naught. Lewis looked the most embarrassed of all, it didn't seem possible, but a soft blush emanated from his cheekbones and he clutched at the sides of his head in frustration.  
"Oh my fucking GOD." He roared to himself rising a few feet off the ground and staring apologetically at his friend. "You…you EAT."

The blonde blinked stupidly up at him for a moment before absolutely losing his shit; falling back on his bed and laughing so hard that tears escaped from the corners of his eyes.  
"It's not _funny_ Art!" Lewis huffed, throwing his head back. "I forgot that people eat and…oh man, I might have left you in here a _week_ before I had realised that! And then you would be-" He stopped his line of thought and trailed off, staring down at Arthur with wide, worried eyes. "…Be right back."

And with that he flew so fast out of the room that he left a trail of pink flames behind him like a racecar, and the imagery was so funny that he could hear Arthur's hollering laughing all the way from the kitchen. His face was as flaming as his hair as he gathered way too much food for one person, muttering under his breath.

* * *

The days passed easily, and Arthur found himself caring less and less where Vivi and Mystery had got to. His whole life now consisted of playing major catch-up with his friend, gossiping about the portraits in the hallway, teasing each other and ignoring the times they touched 'accidentally' for too long. In all honesty, he should feel super-awkward about this whole situation. Lewis was a skeletal ghost now, he was dead, and he should NOT still be attracted to him so strongly, all things considered. But he quickly discovered that feelings do not die with the person, and no matter how messed up this whole situation was…dammit, he _wanted_ him. Just last night, he had lain awake for three hours thinking about what had happened between them in the hallway before his incarceration. And now, tonight, the time before that with the zombie guy. Well…did that really count as a moment? He wasn't even sure if Lewis had actually been into it – they'd never talked about it, and what with the blindfold and all, it might have been circumstantial. But he had felt the tremors run down Lewis' back as it was bound flush against his, the sweat pouring from that spot in the small of his back, the sounds he attempted to hold back and…

Shit. He was hard. Stupid brain, why the hell are you bringing this up now when the man/ghost in question is lying in bed right next to you!? From the second night he'd stayed here, his nightmares had become so bad that Lewis had insisted on sharing his bed with him to help calm him and make him feel safer. It wasn't any trouble, the bed was massive and there was room for probably five people, but with how big Lewis was he took up room for about three. They were sleeping back-to-back (oh god), and with the ghost's increased body temperature, Arthur could _feel_ the heat emanating from him and it was _very_ distracting.  
He willed his body to behave itself, and for once, it seemed to comply. Oh thank **fuck. **He actually couldn't believe his luck, because he was wound tighter than a spring. With Lewis being around all the time, he hadn't had any, well, 'special Arthur time' in almost a week, and for him that was excruciating. But luck seemed to be on his side tonight, and thankfully, he fell asleep with a smile on his lips and the sounds of Lewis' soft breathing in his ears.

But, such is the way of the world, Arthur had never had the best luck. His nightmares came back in full force an hour later – the usual to-do; Lewis falling to his death, Arthur being the one to push him, and the sound of someone else's laughter spilling from his mouth as he watched. Searing pain seemed to shoot through him over and over as Mystery ripped his arm clean off, mauling him like some kind of kitsune demon. His eyes glowed and he would never forget the SOUNDS. Except he didn't stop there - he proceeded to rip every limb from his body until he was nothing but a head, slack-jawed and dead-eyed with Vivi's screams echoing through the cavern as she sobbed over Lewis' body skewered on the jagged rocks.

Arthur awoke screaming and thrashing, throwing the blankets off of him and gasping for air. Dreams felt so real while they were happening, and he wasn't quite with it yet. Two strong arms shot out of nowhere and grasped his wrists, then pressed them as gently as possible into the mattress. Arthur fought it, kicking with all his might now, but whomever the arms belonged to knew this would come. They shifted their entire weight onto him, pinning his legs and body with theirs and whispering calming words. It took a while for Arthur to hear, to see, to recognise the voice and skin. Wait a second - skin? Wasn't Lewis the one who was pinning him?...Yes it was, he would know that voice anywhere but…where was the pink glow of the flaming hair? The heart? He squinted through the darkness of the room, and his eyes adjusted well enough to make out a familiar kindly face that was mere inches from his own. He inhaled sharply, and the name that came out on the exhale was "Lewis…"

"I thought it might help to see a familiar face." Lewis chuckled, and Arthur could feel the deep baritone of his voice rumble through their chests. "I can disguise myself as my old form, but only for a few minutes at a time."

Arthur didn't reply; he couldn't. Lewis looked down at him with a puzzled expression on his face, but then he realised what kind of position they were in. He was…_pinning_ Arthur to the mattress in such a way that the smaller man could not move a muscle, and he knew what that meant a little too late. There it was, against his stomach between them, hard and hot and oh _god_ it was already a little damp through the thin fabric of Arthur's boxers. He felt, heard and saw everything, including the way Arthur's shuddering breaths stuttered against his chest and the way his cheeks heated up and his eyelids drooped in submission. The smaller blonde man was losing it; the overwhelming presence of his hulking friend practically straddling him, the way he'd pinned his wrists with only one hand above his head, the emotional shock of seeing a face he never thought he'd see again. It was driving him wild, and there was nothing he could do about it now other than give in. His hips moved as though possessed, seeking as much contact as possible with the now fleshy body of the muscled and _alive_ Lewis. Lewis let out a primal sound, low in the back of his throat, and his head sagged forward, resting his forehead on Arthur's as they both panted languidly into each other's mouths.

Arthur tugged and squirmed desperately, as though trying to escape from his restraints, but Lewis had learned from past experience and knew he was getting off on being pinned. So he did the only logical thing and tightened his grip, pulling at his wrists until the smaller man's arms were almost straight above his head - then he leaned in and bit into his ear. He was moaning right into it while he ground his hips down with such force that Arthur couldn't breathe. It was pure ecstasy; Arthur let out a series of stuttered little groans and pants as the bulky man in top of him continued to rut against him like a battering ram. Each thrust knocked the air clean out of him and oh fuck, Lewis' dick was hard now too and he could feel it rubbing against his own. It felt fucking huge and Lewis wanted him to use it, wanted it to be inside him right now– wanted Lewis to fuck him until he fell apart.  
"Art…ahhh, oh my fucking god!" Lewis growled, mouthing at Arthur's thin neck. He never once slowed his thrusts. "Wanted this…wanted you…for so long…"  
Arthur's eyes almost rolled back into his head, and he cried out as he came inside his boxers. His whole body shuddered violently as Lewis swept in and drowned his moans in a sexy open-mouthed kiss. Arthur wondered at the sensation of lips against his; was hoping Lewis' transformation would last long enough for him to stick his tongue down his throat, or maybe something else…but his luck was true to form, and it wasn't long before he felt the lips phase gradually to bone, the warmth and glow of his fiery hair, and even his hands seemed to become harder and skeletal. Lewis huffed and rolled off of his friend, lying back on the pillows next to him and groaning in frustration.

"Sorry…Artie." He said, still panting hard. "I couldn't hold it…I'll stop now and-"

But he was silenced by Arthur joining him on his side of the bed, coming to rest between his legs and looking up at him seriously through lidded eyes. The orgasm hadn't dampened his enthusiasm in the least, and neither had Lewis' now bonier form. Lewis stared down at him in disbelief.  
"But…I'm back to my other form." Lewis said, weakly, gesturing to his gaunt face. "Doesn't this kinda, I dunno, put you off?"  
Arthur replied by using his hands to forcefully separate the other man's legs, grasping at his thighs and lifting them up slightly so that Lewis' legs dangled over his shoulders. They felt thinner than normal legs, but oddly like they were still covered by some kind of skin beneath the pants. But what he was really after was, thankfully, still straining at the front between the ghost man's legs, complete with a damp patch. Lewis was suddenly kind of shy, attempting to close his brazenly splayed legs modestly, but Arthur was having none of that. He gripped the thighs tighter and leaned forward, breathing heavily against the clothed member. Lewis looked down at him, meeting the steely gaze of the man nestled between his legs, and his hands gripped the sheets in apprehension.

"_Take it out._" Arthur said, his voice even and authoritative.  
Lewis visibly shivered, and he felt his cock give an interested twitch. That voice, it was almost a command. He didn't know what exactly had gotten into his usually cowardly friend, but he didn't really mind. He **really** didn't mind!

Lewis was embarrassed at how much his hands shook, and he found it hard to concentrate on pulling the zipper down when Arthur's eyes bore into him like that. But he managed; and there it was. Arthur's mouth practically watered at the sight. It was large alright, with a soft curve and wouldn't you know it – the tip fucking _glowed_. The ghost man was obviously a little embarrassed at that fact; it made it hard to not see the ravenous look on Arthur's face when it was illuminated in pink. Lewis felt the grip on his thighs tighten even more as Arthur leaned in to lick a thick stripe from base to tip, before settling in to suckle on the tip. The light was fainter now, but it could be seen against Arthur's cheek as he took a little more in. Lewis covered his face with his hands and made a noise that was halfway between an exhale and a needy moan, and Arthur hummed appreciatively with a mouth full of ghost dick. Lewis didn't know what to do with his body as Arthur began to attempt to deep throat him without any warning; his head was thrown back at one point, then forwards - his hands left his face and hovered awkwardly in the air, tentative, trying to resist the temptation to grab Arthur's hair. It all felt too good, and oh mercy, was Arthur making little swallows every time Lewis' dick was at the back of his throat?! He focused his bleary vision to look down at Arthur as best he could – fucking hell, he could see the tip of his dick halfway down his throat…the pink glowed through the skin in his neck. The larger man's pants turned into low, drawn-out groans and Arthur was drunk off the sounds as he used his fleshy right hand to massage Lewis' balls and the base of his now-throbbing cock. Lewis couldn't resist any more; his hands tangled in the blonde mop currently bobbing between his legs, and he practically _shoved_ him down onto it. If he was worried that Arthur wouldn't like that, it didn't matter because he was soon proven wrong. Arthur's eyes flew open for a second, then he moaned as best he could at the feeling of being forced down onto such a huge dick. Lewis hesitated at the sound for only a moment, before he got the hint and started repeatedly shoving Arthur down while simultaneously bucking his hips up. Arthur felt himself grow hard again, and since there was no more use for his hand, he used it on himself instead as Lewis fucked his mouth to his hearts content. His lack of a gag reflex was serving him well tonight!

Lewis slowed his motions and his whole body went stiff, allowing Arthur to release his cock from his mouth with a wet popping sound. Arthur crawled up and straddled Lewis' legs, aligning their cocks together and leaning over Lewis a little. Lewis was a little confused, but seeing Arthur leaning over him like that looking absolutely _wrecked_ made him so close to the edge that he couldn't stop to admire him for long. Arthur surprised him by kissing his skeleton face, with just as much passion as he had with his human form. Lewis' heart began to beat erratically; it felt just as amazing. Different, but amazing. He reached down between them and grasped both of their cocks in his stocky hand, stroking them both together quickly and vigorously. His head was thrown back now as he reached completion, and his flaming hair burst forth as he came, covering his shoulders and skull. Arthur gripped the front of his tux, his fingers finding the purple pashmina at his neck and holding on for dear life as he came all over both of their stomachs. It was the most intense orgasm of his fucking life, and he might have even lost consciousness for a bit there as he slumped forward, utterly spent.

Lewis' breathing slowed, and he revelled in the feeling of having Arthur snuggled into his chest. He wrapped his arms around the waif form, stroking up and down his back and massaging the back of his head in a sappy show of tenderness. Arthur hummed, half-asleep, made a joke about 'bone-rs' and fell asleep to the gentle chuckling sounds of his friend.


End file.
